


Going

by genagirl



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Gen, Happy Ending, Pre-Slash, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 02:37:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genagirl/pseuds/genagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you have to go through a lot of crap to get to the good stuff in your life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going

Going

By Gena 

 

 

Going

 

Blair didn't cut his hair and he didn't go to the academy. Just two more things on the growing list of things Blair Sandburg did not do anymore. He didn't smile much, he didn't laugh at all. He no longer told long complicated stories which seemed to branch like willow trees. He didn't go to Rainier. He didn't teach. He didn't dance in his sock feet to wild music. Blair didn't do any of that anymore - he didn't do anything that might remind Jim of the old Blair. 

 

But Jim Ellison remembered the old Blair. He remembered the kid who had wheedled his way into a sterile loft apartment for one week and stayed for years. He remembered the smile, wide and infectious that could make his heart skip a beat. He remembered the fierce determination Blair showed whenever he thought of a way to make Jim's sentinel abilities work better, safer, more comfortable. He remembered the man who had saved his life and his sanity. And now that "he" was gone, Jim missed him with a depth that made his chest hurt. 

 

He'd said he was sorry - and he was, but it hadn't hurt enough. He needed more pain to take away the guilt and so Jim devised a plan. He left. He tore himself out of the safe and comfy life he had constructed and hit the road. His lawyer had looked at him as if he'd suddenly sprouted two heads and both of them were speaking Greek, but he had signed over the loft, his savings account and his trust fund to Blair. He'd packed his clothes, a couple of silly trinkets Blair had given him, and he'd set off in his truck for parts unknown.

 

There had been a letter, of course. These things couldn't end without a letter. Jim had agonized over it for hours, starting several times before getting it just right. He wanted Blair to realize that he had spent years helping an arrogant, selfish bastard. Jim wrote out his sins clearly, and precisely, listing each one and giving examples. He didn't want there to be any confusion on Sandburg's part as to why this parting had to be done and he didn't want Blair to feel the least bit guilty about it. Because, he knew, it wasn't Blair's fault at all. Blair couldn't help being fooled by something as insidious as Jim's own psyche. No, Sandburg had no way of knowing Jim Ellison was beyond capability of normal human trust. His brain was a mental junkyard, a collection of twisted wreckage left by people who had promised him they would stay. He just could not bring himself to believe that Blair would find his company compelling enough to stick around. There had to be a catch - there was always a catch. He tried to spell it out in the letter but none of it sounded sincere so in the end he just said what he'd wanted to say since the first day of their meeting. I love you. Jim.

 

He drove for two days and when he stopped he was outside a hotel in a town so far off the beaten path they had to pump in sunshine. But Jim liked it. He kept to himself, made a down payment on a little bar and set up business. They called him Jeb and he liked that too. No one bothered him. No one asked him intrusive questions. No one made him laugh or cry. He ran his bar and he made sure no one caused any harm. It was like a little city all to itself and Jim liked that. He didn't think about what Blair might be doing, he didn't think about Blair at all. If he had he would have had to admit that he really didn't like his new life and he didn't want to do that. So the days passed quickly and the nights passed slowly. He enveloped the loneliness which dug a hole in his heart with open arms. It hurt and hurting made him feel as if he were paying off the debt he owned. 

 

 

Leaves fell like brittle teardrops the day Blair walked into the bar. Jim had known the day might come but somehow he had pretty much fooled himself into hoping it wouldn't. He knew his partner the instant the door opened despite the fact that Blair did not look like the Blair who roamed his dreams. This Blair looked older, the sharp edge of his soul worn down by sadness and anger. Jim sucked in a deep breath of his scent, let it fill that empty place inside his chest. A withered knot inside him came back to life, pain flowing away like an afterbirth. He watched Sandburg scan the room then his blue eyes locked with Jim's and the old connection snapped between them like a flag in the wind. Blair moved with complete assurance, stepping to the long wooden bar and hitching an elbow on it. A cowboy in an old movie couldn't have done it better and Jim had to fight the urge to ask "what'll it be, pardner". Instead he remained silent. 

 

 

Blair didn't smile at him. He didn't do anything Jim would have expected Blair to do but then this was the new Blair, not the old. Still those eyes, burning with a fire that ran soul deep, were very familiar. Jim gulped in air and waited. It was Sandburg who finally broke the silence. He asked for a soft drink. Jim blinked but drew a Pepsi from the cooler beneath the bar and set it down. Small droplets of condensation ran down its sides, they started out alone but as Jim watched they collided and slipped down the side of the can in a united river. He and Blair had been like that at one time, two solitary people colliding by chance and becoming a river of oneness. He looked up to find that Blair was watching him, an unreadable expression on his face. 

 

 

"I made your life a living hell," Jim said, surprising himself by speaking. "I took everything away from you. I thought you betrayed me." He wiped some of the water off the can, watching it swirled over his fingertip. 

 

 

"You did," Blair conceded, his words not sharp but making Jim flinch as if they had been a whip. "But I've found out you didn't take everything away from me." He captured Jim's hand, "you didn't take away how I feel about you." They stood like that for a long moment, their hands knotted together, their lives retying. "You left me with the one thing I value most, Jim. You left me with my love for you."

 

 

"Sandburg -" That was as far as he got. Jim had nothing else left. Blair had come for him. Forgiven him. Loved him. He had fucked up everything in his life and Blair still loved him.

 

 

As if reading his thoughts Blair smiled. It wasn't dazzling, it looked sad and tired but it was still a smile. "I'll come after you every time. You'll promise me you've changed - that you know I won't hurt you but next time you'll believe the worst. You're gonna treat me like crap but," he shrugged. "I'm a big boy, Jim. I'm here because I love you and that won't change. I might be fifty kinds of a fool but I won't change."

 

 

Jim knew he was right. It was part of the wreckage, part of his screwed up life but if Blair could hang on, so could he. It took a day to get the bar back on the market and they spent the night in the huge bedroom above it. They didn't make love, the thing between them seemed too frail to survive the onslaught of passion they both knew would be coming. Instead they lay curled together, holding hands and in the morning Blair helped him pack the few clothes and trinkets he'd brought and they walked towards the Ford truck with the birds singing and the dew still on the grass. 

 

 

Blair turned and looked up at the room over the bar, a fond expression in his eyes. A moment later a crease appeared between his dark brows. "Jeb's?" he asked. 

 

 

"Our initials," Jim said. "J.E.B.S." 

 

 

Blair smiled then. He laughed. It was the old Blair who climbed into the truck beside Jim and went back to the loft. Life wasn't the same. It was better.


End file.
